Julie Kaiser: Remember that 'F' from fourth grade? Mom does

A trip down memory lane makes this mom wonder whether our kids will ever learn how to bounce back from goofing up.

Julie Kaiser

This fall, a folder marked “Julie: 4th Grade” emerged from deep within my parents’ basement and revealed some damning evidence of my academic history.

“Thank you so much for inquiring about the failing grade Julie received on her last test,” the teacher’s letter to my mom began. “She seems to have been in a hurry and didn’t read the questions properly. I have gone through the test with her and feel confident she will do better next time.”

Incredulous, I flipped through the folder filled with worksheets and fading ink comments: “Don’t be in such a hurry. Sloppy work. Slow down next time.”

Where were the scratch-n-sniff stickers? The stars? The pluses?

This is what happens when you volunteer to help your mother sort through boxes. Every whitewashed memory is laid bare, leaving only the truth preserved in storage, painstakingly marked by name and year.

“Oh, I must take this home,” I told my mother who in quick fashion retrieved the fourth-grade folder from my clutches.

“I’m not done with it yet,” she said.

Really? I’m 39 years old, and she’s not done with my fourth-grade folder? Thank goodness I grew up before the scrapbooking craze. I can just picture it now: die cuts of apples and school book embellishments with my teacher’s comments written in pretty italics font next to my fourth grade picture: “Please write more neatly. You can do better.”

Actually, I looked forward to showing my homework to our 9-year-old fourth-grader who has been receiving similar comments on his worksheets and tests for the past couple of years, minus the failing letter grades.

I imagined heartfelt bonding:

“You see, son, you aren’t the only one who has raced to turn your paper in ahead of the rest of the class. Once upon a lifetime ago, your very own mom feltthat same urge to be the fastest, and here are the grades to prove it.”

We haven’t had this conversation yet for two reasons: my mother has not relinquished the folder, and I have not figured out an appropriate moral for my story.

Two options:

Moral 1: In fourth grade, I slopped through my classwork in an attempt to be the first person at the teacher’s desk with my worksheets completed. After a few too many “Fs” on my papers, I learned to slow down … mostly … and now I lead a productive life with only the occasional speeding ticket.

Moral 2: You need to fail occasionally so that you know how and why it happens. Only then can you learn how to be successful. (Cue the string section for added inspiration.)

Of course, failing is not something today’s parents accept for our kids. Instead, we work diligently to make sure they avoid the sting of failure and instead feel good about themselves. This obsession with the positive may prove counterproductive long term.

In her book: “The Self-Esteem Trap: Raising Confident and Compassionate Kids In An Age of Self-Importance,” Polly Young-Eisendrath, Ph.D, writes about the consequences of being over-preoccupied with a child’s self-esteem.

“America’s children are suffering from a particularly threatening and perplexing problem. Obsessive self-focus, restless dissatisfaction, pressures to be exceptional, unreadiness to take on adult responsibilities, feelings of superiority (or inferiority) and excessive fears of being humiliated are the pervasive symptoms of the self-esteem trap.”

Yikes. So let’s try for Moral 3: Because you are human, failure is always an option, but we’ll still love you, no matter what.